


Sirens of  Râ-kedet

by Maharajah (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Language, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Underage, Multi, Murder, Politics, Possesive/Jealous Lucifer, Prince Sam Winchester, Roman General Lucifer, Seductive Sam, Violence, drugs/alcohol, ptolemaic princes Sam/Dean, w/illustrations!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Maharajah
Summary: Lucifer's mother had told him stories of sirens. He just never believed them, until now.OrIn a game of sex, blood, and politics - Sam will do whatever it takes to save his country and his people - even if that means going to unspeakable lengths...





	1. Crown Of Blood And Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off Cleopatra and Mark Antony - and to my fellow history buffs out there - it will not be 100% accurate. And Sam in this story is around 17-20 for reasons I'll disclose later, hope you enjoy. I apologize in advance if you are to come across any mistakes or typos.

Alexandria had not changed much since when Lucifer had been stationed there several years ago, the heat still cooked him underneath his Roman leathers and furs and the children still threw rocks at their shields and the civilians still eyed them with unwavering fear and anger - stories of barbaric men that killed for sport across the sea probably haunted them as they slept - and Lucifer couldn’t have been more amused.

His father, Chuck - or Caesar as he liked to be called - had asked Lucifer to join him on a detour from their course from Pharsalus to Rome. The merciless fighting in Greece had tired him but he did not decline when his father asked of him, and his father had an important duty to attend to while in Alexandria - secure stability to their Egyptian allies.

From what Chuck had told him on the trireme - a civil war was threatening the country, a threat to Egypt meant a threat to Rome. Egypt was their main supplier in grain - a fault between them could see hundreds of starved Romans dead in the streets.

His division of men and his father’s walked beside each other on their way to the palace - the Egyptians cleared way for them as they moved through the crowd - and the heavy iron doors to the palace opened and officials dressed in luxurious silks and cottons poured out to greet them but were ignored completely as their Roman guests marched right past them with their red banners and golden eagles held high up on pikes.

“Watch the floors,” Lucifer called back - remembering that roman sandals don’t quite agree with the smooth tile floors of the halls - he watched idly as one of his men in the far back caught himself from slipping and marched on. He liked his men as much as a general should but they could be ungainly from time to time - unlike his father’s who were so well trained they could follow every order with perfection.

They moved through the halls watched by the carved stone eyes of gods that weren’t of Rome. Their animal heads and inhuman pigments and colorful writing made no sense to them but they continued on, passing slaves and servants and aristocrats who watched stunned and quiet.

At the end of the hall another large doorway opened to reveal an even larger room decorated top to bottom with art and hieroglyphs - massive Corinthian columns supported the ceiling - it would have made the great Alexander proud - his attempts at merging Hellenistic and Egyptian culture did not die with him but lived on with the Ptolemies.

In the front of the room, The Pharaoh and his minions greeted them with faux smiles and too eager gestures. Lucifer had remembered John Ptolemy as a man for obnoxious parties and lavish entrance. He could tell not much had changed, jewels and bands of gold wrapped around his neck and wrists like chains - the man practically wore the entire Roman treasury on his body.

“May I present his royal majesty - Ptolemy of Egypt - son of Rha and beloved of the two ladies, John Ptolemy, the divine,” A official spoke from his place at the Pharaoh’s side, his chest puffed out like a peacock and bowing reverently once to their Roman guests and once more for his lord.

“Welcome Caesar and company, “ John begun - addressing Lucifer’s father as if an old friend, ” Egypt greets you with open arms.”

Lucifer watched as his father gave the slightest hint of a nod that could pass as polite. He could feel the tension in the air - so thick it could be cut with a knife. Lucifer's hand rested nonchalantly on the hilt of his blade, ready to pull it from the sheath if things were to go sour, but his father handled the situation calmly, as a leader would.

“You are most kind, exalted, but we won’t be staying long.” His father answered. The room and its audience made Lucifer feel uncomfortable in the sense that their hosts could be unpredictable - he remembered John’s punishments to his slaves and servants if they could not comply - he remembered seeing their mutilated bodies hanging from the walls. The barracks had a clear view of the palace and the images were forever ingrained into his head.

“A Shame - if we can assist you in any way, please make it known,” The Pharaoh said kindly - a bit too kindly for his taste.

“Hmph,” Chuck paused, ” Now - how goes your preparations for war?”

_And there it is._

Lucifer smirked - watching the king stutter for a reply. Since Chuck was appointed in charge of making sure the Ptolemies remained on the throne of Egypt, the current problems facing the land of the Nile became his issue, one of which involved a runaway prince trying to overthrow his parent. The situation had the plot of a crummy Roman theater play - except less naked women and cocks.

“War? We have no preparations for war,” The King answered finally after regaining his words, looking shocked and almost confused.

“No? Then I must be mistaken - I heard reports of a certain Sam Ptolemy trying to remove you from the throne.”

John let out a huff of a laugh - the stiffness retracting from his shoulders as he sat languidly in his chair. “My son believes he can take the reins of Egypt himself, he is now out there trying to band together a bunch of starved nomads to invade Alexandria, a fool he is.”

Chuck did not stop there and did not stop the smug look that conquered his face. “I see - is Delegos of Pergamon one of the starved nomads you’re referring to? I hear he can raise ten legions.”

The prince had tried to kill the Pharaoh, escaped the royal guard - managed to get through Alexandria unscathed and gained the favor of the most powerful men in the east, Lucifer was a tad astonished with the young prince’s determination.

“Tough kid,” He muttered, impressed, garnering the glares of almost everyone in the room.

“Lucian-” His father began but John cut him off.

“And who might you be? I figured men under command of Caesar would have learned how to hold their tongue.”

Lucifer cocked his head and sneered mockingly, his boastful nature coming to seize him. John had forgotten his stature, it was his _duty_ to remind him. “I am General Lucian Augustus Alighieri; the master of horse - second in command, Victor of Gaul and Pharsalus, second son of Caesar and brother to Roman Senator Michael Augustus Alighieri and brother to people’s Tribune Castiel Augustus Alighieri - does that answer your question, _my lord_?”

“I’m afraid my son has forgotten his manners - our duties here are to resolve the current conflicts and return to Rome - your assistance in helping us find the prince and bringing him to justice would be most splendid,” His father answered before anymore bicker and banter could unfold, angry eyes snapping over to Lucifer as a silent warning. An exasperated sigh left Lucifer’s throat but the derisive look on his face did not fall. As much as he despised John - he didn’t feel that ending a century-year-old alliance between Egypt and Rome was worth it.

“Sam is not a threat - he has raised a petty bandit but he will not succeed in his plans, my men and I are sure of this,” John said boldly but It sounded more like he was trying to persuade himself than his foreign company.

“Well, where is he?” His father asked.

“The South.” A voice spoke from the side of the room. Hundreds of eyes darted over to see an elegantly clad youth standing in the doorway - another prince - no doubt.

_Great - another Ptolemy..._

“He escaped to the south disguised as a merchant,” he continued, “After his attempt on my father’s life failed, he left the palace and sought asylum.”

“Dean Ptolemy - you seem to know much your brother's whereabouts - feel free to share,” Caesar spoke, not bothering to address him as a royal figure and crown prince of Egypt.

Dean gave him an irritated look, one that looked even angrier with the Kohl lining his eyes. The jewels he wore dangled and clinked as he walked over to the throne and stood at his father’s side. Green eyes and tanned skin from the Egyptian sun - he certainly looked much like his father - but he lacked the fake kindness that the Pharaoh offered.

“My brother's location is unknown - it is unlikely you Romans can find him.”

“I thought the Ptolemies had control of every grain of sand in their country - you mean to tell me you cannot find a prince who's making a ruckus?” Lucifer asked, squinting his eyes at the two royals.

“We have control over everything - Egypt is ours but Sam is smart, if he doesn't want to be found, he won’t.” Dean retorted, his knuckles turning white.

“The Ptolemies are known for not fitting in with their peoples - is it true you Greeks can only speak Greek and not Egyptian? - By that alone, you should have found this prince already.” Lucifer stated - a translator always followed the king around - it was pathetic to not know the tongue of your own people - it just goes to show foreigners shouldn’t rule lands they knew nothing about. The Greek rulers of Egypt being a prime example.

“Sam is educated in the tongue - it’s probably why he slithered away so fast,” Dean muttered.

_...... Slithered? Is the crown prince comparing his brother to a snake? And I thought Roman politics were bad._

“If you can’t find him - civil war is your next option your majesties,” Chuck addressed, making sure to empathize the point.

“There won’t be a civil war,” John hissed, ” The people are loyal to me, they will not fall for his tricks.”

“The people will follow whoever is in their best interests, I hear Sam is making promises.”

“Sam will make promises all he likes, there won’t be a war and Sam will be found and held accountable for his crimes. I am their best interests!” The Pharaoh burst - bolting up from his chair. A hand ran through his dark locks before falling to pinch the bridge of his nose. Heavy hot sighs left his mouth - Lucifer watched his childish meltdown with a raised brow.

“I think it is best If we retire now - our men will need rooms and be properly fed - I’m sure you can be of assist, divine majesty.” Chuck expressed to everyone's glee - mainly Lucifer’s.

“Yes yes - I’ll have someone escort you - my guards can accompany you to-”

“No, my men are Romans - they’ll do without them.”

Ω

“How do you expect us to find this kid? I don’t know if you noticed but Egypt is a big country.”

“Calm down Lucian - I’m sure he’ll show.”

Lucifer and his father had found sanctuary in a vacated guest room on the outskirts of the main palace rooms - the room was secluded and devoid of windows - their escorts questioned the choice in residence but Chuck had brushed them off. Lucifer knew his father - the further from Egyptian eyes the better. They equally didn’t trust their hosts - Lucifer was only more blunt about it.

The night had left them with a ridiculous challenge: find a runaway prince in one of the biggest empires in the world. Lucifer was stumped and aggravated at his father’s insouciance - the indifference and passive attitude was setting him aflame, he wanted to return to Rome and not spend weeks tracking another bratty pompous Ptolemaic prince.

“He’ll show? Did you hear the Pharaoh and Dean? This prince is smart - if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t.”

“Then what do you suggest? Just leave and let Egypt face Civil war? You’re smarter than this - you know the consequences.”

Lucifer let out an aggravated sigh and ran a hand across his face, his father knew how to get on his nerves - but he could not deny he was right. He fell back into a seat and watched Chuck pace in front of him - the slapping of his leather sandals on the floors echoed throughout the large room - the concerned and concentrated look on his face was highlighted in red and orange hues from the torches and candles.

They had been through alot together - it wasn’t him being boisterous, it was just fact - Lucifer was Chuck’s favorite son. They had conquered Gaul together, crossed the Rubicon together, stopped Rome’s civil war together, defeated Cain in Pharlaus together. They fought side by side, but they still had their disagreements on various issues. The one placed in front of them was a prime example of such - but they always sorted out, even if the solutions seemed bleak.

The task at hand seemed impossible, but, alas, Chuck always had faith where Lucifer lacked, and they proceeded that way.

“I just don't understand how this will work,” Lucifer paused and pursed his lips,” I need a drink.”

The need for drink was something that came to him when he was a teenager - it was around the time he was to be sent away for campaigns in the east. He had a man's thirst and drank like a sailor - nights had come and gone where he drowned himself in wine and women.

Their Egyptian hosts had been kind enough to gift them an oenochoe filled with wine - Lucifer reached for it across the table but his father pulled it away before his fingers could touch the pottery. Lucifer looked up and glared at him, he felt like a child that just had been denied their toy.

“No Lucian, there is no need for it.”

“If I want to drown myself in alcohol you won't be a barrier, _father_.”

“I am both your father and your commander - if you will not listen to me as your father then you will listen to me as a dictator of Rome.”

Lucifer let out an indignant breath but did not attempt to retrieve the drink from his father’s scarred hands,” I’m not a child anymore - you can stop treating me as such.”

His father huffed a laugh at that,” You are a man Lucifer, but you will always be my child. You have killed hundreds - you have lead armies and defeated our enemies, but you will remain, my son, even after Hades claims us.”

It was the statement that left his mouth that made the younger seize up, Lucifer could not deny he had an attachment to his father - even at twenty-eight years old his father still looked at him like he did when he was only a boy playing in the streets.

Chuck smiled and continued,” We will sort through this, an opportunity to solve the issues will come to us - the gods are in our favor.”

It’s similar to what his father had said in Alesia - if they had lost in Alesia they would lose all of Gaul, but the cost of winning…. The _dread_ that followed, he knew it had to be done, the gods were with them. They left victorious.

Lucifer willed his head to clear the thoughts that threatened to devour him but looked back up to his father and nodded in agreement.

“Now, how are we supposed to find this prince?” Lucifer inquired.

 _“If you wanted to see me you could have just asked,”_ An unfamiliar voice spoke from the other side of the room.

Lucifer launched into a hostile mode, bolting out of the chair and pulling his sword from its sheath with a shiiiiing. His training came back to him and slammed into his head as his eyes darted to the source of the voice and…. _Oh_.

A boy.

He was just an image of temptation - his hair was a torrent of brunette waves that reached his shoulders and his skin was sun kissed and supple, smooth as polished marble. He was lean but tall and wore an average traders outfit which was tightened in the right areas to show his form. Lucifer found it difficult to look away, his eyes ran over dark fabric and hard and soft lines and locked on with two bright hazel orbs.

Lucifer's mother had told him stories of sirens. He just never believed them - up until then.

“Prince Sam, you grace us with your presence,” Chuck breathed but then tilted his head in a questioning way,” How did you get in?”

Sam huffed a laugh as if the answer should have been obvious, he walked from the dark of the room and into the light - and gods Lucifer’s heart just about stopped.

The prince leaned against one of the pillars and gestured with his hand, “The walls are hollow here Caesar, this is my palace, I know every nook and cranny - every hidden doorway or passage…”

“Your reputation surely proceeds you,” His father added.

Lucifer came to his senses and slid his sword back into its sheath, but his eyes never left Sam’s form, his mouth practically salivated but he remained resilient. He stood up straight and folded his arms over his chest.

“State your purpose,” He spoke and squinted at the demigod who stood just feet from him.

“You are in my home - you have no right to command me to do anything - General Lucian. “

Lucifer didn’t take commands from non Romans - he gave them - but a retort was unable to reach his lips. Sam saying his name shouldn't have had that effect on him - but Lucifer just guessed he had a weakness for youths with beauty that rivaled Apollo's. No brothel whore had ever had that effect on him.

The youth gave him a smirk and walked a few feet closer, he did not approach them but reached a mehndi embellished hand to clutch at the neglected oenochoe and examined it for a moment before setting it back down.

“Never accept a drink from an enemy - I thought with as many travels you Roman conquerors make you would have learned that by now - it’s probably poisoned, I’d advise you pour it out.”

_Probably poisoned_

“You are our enemy?” Chuck asked, narrowing his eyes at their unexpected guest.

“No - I am not your enemy - John is.”

Lucifer huffed a disbelieving laugh,” You tried to kill your father - why should we believe anything you say?” A god this prince may be, he would not forget his mission.

Sam’s eyes snapped over to Lucifer, a whirlpool of green and brown and blue staring right at him. “You know my father - you know what he is like - don’t tell me what I had to do was unreasonable.”

“He is a king - cruelty comes with the package.”

“No king should throw parties and feasts while the sick and the starving die in the streets - Egypt is in debt already.”

“Our job is to put an end to the fighting between you and your father - not solve an economic crisis,” His father stated - sounding much like a father scolding their child - only if this child was a Macedonian Greek Prince of Egypt.

“Egypt will collapse if his tirade continues - if Egypt collapses - Rome will follow.”

That garnered a pause - he surely knew how to persuade people, _but how could he be so sure? How they could be sure about anything he was saying - he’s wanted for attempted murder for god's sake!_

“What are you talking about?” Lucifer catechized, asking somewhat incredulously.

“Roman excellence built on the gold, the labor, the grain, the corn; of Egypt. You know it’s true, General, Egypt needs to stay in Rome’s best interests - I am Rome’s best interests.”

His father stepped forward, “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Isolate my father - make me king.”

The prince was insinuating an act of treachery, he wanted the Roman forces to do away with the Pharaoh and appoint him king - a mighty demand indeed - but he offered a compromise; he would benefit Rome with a throne.

“You want us to turn on the Pharaoh? And let you lead the country?”

“Exactly - congratulations - you just solved the mystery.”

_And cheeky too._

But it brought up an uncomfortable question, Lucifer found himself asking,” What about your brother?”

Sam’s gaze softened at that, he looked at Lucifer again with those beautiful kohl lined eyes, examining him as if he hadn’t seen him quite right before and any brazen rebuttal looked as if it had died on his lips,” My brother made his choice - if he will stand by it - he will face the consequences.”

“....You are willing to kill your brother?”

“I’m ready to do anything for the sake of my country and my people - I’m sure the two of you can understand.”

And Lucifer can, he can understand, he’s found himself on the side of the prince rather than the pharaoh - just a few certain components were left out of the equation. He himself was rather attached to his siblings, the idea that this Adonis was willing to do the seemingly unspeakable to ensure the prosperity of his people was somewhat admirable. It’s clearer now - but he still looked to his father, hoping to see is input.

Chuck’s dark brows were knitted together and a finger rested idly against his chin, but then his lips pulled back into a small smile.

“Well, your majesty - the night is upon us and I insist you retire, but do not think for a moment I’ll forget this,” his father added, appearing pleased and overall; convinced.

“Sounds like a plan, may you lend me a guard to escort me to my suite?”

“You could just leave the same way you came in,” Lucifer intruded, still at a loss as to how Sam could have possibly gotten in.

“A master never reveals their secrets Lucian,” The prince moved past them and to the set of heavy bronze doors - his hips swayed and gyrated as he walked and the general found himself entranced by him. The loose black fabric of his attire swayed with his hips and the traditional jewelry that decorated his body jangled and clinked together.

The look that he sent them as his fingers grasped the handle could pass as lewd, but he opened the door and about five of Chuck’s men stood by him - looking at their commander for orders.

“Escort him to his room - make sure he is not seen by the royal guard - we’ll speak more in the morning,” He commanded and the men nodded, Sam sent them one last satisfied look before disappearing into the hallway.

“Well...that was something,” Lucifer said finally after the door had been shut - his father chuckled behind him and reclined on a cushioned seat, “A siren he may be - I will be Odysseus and remain unswayed.”

“I hope you remember the story ends with the sirens drowning themselves,” His father returned to his serious nature,” This prince must stay alive - I’m placing you in charge of keeping him safe - and remember, Sam is of royal blood and you must treat him with the utmost respect, you must obey his orders within reason - _is that clear_?”

Lucifer did as he was trained, he stood straight and nodded, he placed his fist on his chest piece and signaled off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his father’s pleased look - he swallowed any rebuttal his rebellious nature cooked up in his head and obeyed.

“Yes, sir.”


	2. The Banished Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay everyone, vacations and family troubles got in the way of posting but hopefully I'll be back to uploading regularly.  
> \- And for those who still don't know, Sam, Dean, and John are based on the Ptolemaic rulers of Egypt. The Ptolemies were Greek descendants of Ptolemy I Soter - a general who served beside Alexander the Great and took the reigns of Egypt after Alexander passed away. Cleopatra (yes that Cleopatra) was the last of the dynasty.

“Prince Sam Ptolemy of Egypt is said to be sharp of wit, charming and innately manipulative. He is known for his knowledge in language - speaking both Greek and Egyptian and the languages of the Medes, Parthians, Jews, Arabs, Syrians, Troglodytae, and Ethiopians. He is a boy versed by the intellectuals who frequent the Library of Alexandria. Proficient in the sciences, mathematics, toxicology and close combat fighting - the Prince is not only astute but dangerous - he is also known for using torture, poison and…”

“Go on Jess,” Sam urged while moving the opium pipe from his lips. A cloud of hazy white emerged from his lips as he breathed. He laid sprawled out on a low couch with a leg dangling over the side - his eyes lazily trailed up to see his servant clutching a papyrus scroll. Jessica sighed but the miffed expression did not leave her delicate features.

“His...sexual talents in order to achieve his goals - whether man or woman - his beauty and intelligence are known far and wide, attracting powerful figures all over the known world. None can resist him, even with wax in the ears, men and women alike fall victim to his charms,” Jess finished - rolling up the scroll and giving it to Sam’s outstretched hand.

“Is that all of what the royal court had to say about me...?” He prodded - squinting at the Greek text.

“Yes, but there are a few other things,” She muttered, shifting away from standing at his side to grasp an object wrapped up in cotton. It had laid neglected on the table for some time and she unwound it to reveal a small vial with a dark liquid in it. 

Poison. 

“The apothecary - Samandriel - said that you had requested this,” She added while holding the glass in front of his face to see. 

A slow smile crept up Sam’s features, “When this is all over I’ll be sure to reward him generously …..thank you, Jess.” 

The vial slipped into the prince’s robes for safe keeping - he figured use of it will come shortly - best to keep it close and in sight. Jessica nodded and bowed her head, but sat next to him on the cushions while reaching out a hand to run through his brown locks. Sam groaned into the touch and blew out another ring of smoke.

The night was upon them and the sky outside was black - an entire day had passed that they’d been hauled up in the prince’s suite. Sam figured if he was to die of boredom he would do it intoxicated - he could at least trust his opium pipe to do the job for it. 

“Do you agree with it?” She asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Agree with what..?” He inquired, somewhat deliriously. 

“You know what I mean.”

Sam smirked, “You mean do I agree with what the royal court officials have to say in their scrolls and texts? No...if that’d make you feel better, Jess.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re asking questions with obvious answers….”

He had to admit to himself that the men in his father’s court were well informed on his being, he figured that the Pharaoh had something to do with the amount of information. They made him seem malicious without even knowing the reasons for his actions, unfair but typical. 

“You do realize that even if you kill the king there’s still a matter of actually being appointed Pharaoh - the royal guard and half the court will have your head by sundown.”

“And I thought ahead...,” Sam said, ”Caesar and his men will help with that - I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to...remove any opposers.”

Jessica looked at him with incredulity, “You managed to persuade them? There is no way they’d storm the palace with their legions to appoint you king.”

“They’d do it if it was for the good of Rome..,” He laughed bitterly,”They now know the cost of dad’s actions - and now they know that Rome will never stand if Egypt falls.”

He continued,“Even without the Romans I could have the throne - the people are siding with me, other officials have moved their interests away from John and the men in the East know I could be of benefit to them.”

“The men in the East know? I’m sure they thought that when they took you to bed.”

He paused at that, placing the pipe on the table and moving his head back to look his servant in the eyes. She was right of course, he had to admit. He frowned as blurred memories of nights with men in dark candle lit rooms clouded his mind. He could still lazily remember the feel of their hands across his skin, through his hair, in him - the ache in his loins at the urgency of their rutting... It had worked in the end, he had them all wrapped around his fingers. A puppet master indeed. 

Maybe he was the manipulative fiend that his father’s officials made him out to be - maybe he was no better than John - maybe he was just trying to mask his hunger for power with good intentions and promises. His drugged mind wandered. 

“If I must prostitute myself to get what I want….then I will do it. You know my reasons Jess….don’t act like I do it without purpose.”

“I know your reasons,” She paused and sighed,”I just worry about how this will end.”

“It will end with me sitting on the throne...,” He reached up to fondle strands of dirty blonde hair that had managed to find its way out of her bun.

John had caused enough damage - his father he may be - Sam would not allow his tyrannical tirade continue any longer. The people who ended up dead because of his selfishness - the Alexandrian children who went to bed with empty stomachs. When he was on his feet trying to flee Alexandria - he saw them - he saw them cry and beg shop keepers for scraps. He saw them curl up on themselves and whine and sob about the pain. He knew it was bad - but seeing it in person only solidified his will to help his country. And he would help them with a throne. 

If it ever came down to it - he would summon his allies and take Alexandria himself. Egypt wasn’t known for its armies or military strength, claiming the capital wouldn’t be a challenge with a strong army. 

An alliance with the Romans would prove to be beneficial since the Egyptians and Romans had been allies for over a century. The pact between them kept the Macedonians of the north and the Seleucids of the far east away from their provinces. Rome was the strongest military power the world had ever seen - a declaration of friendship would deter any rival power. 

Sam knew this - after hearing the word that Caesar and his entourage would be coming to Alexandria he had moved from the caravans of the south and was escorted up the Nile by traders. He could crush John with the help of the Romans - let alone his allies. 

“You switch from ruthless to caring so quickly I cannot even tell who I’m talking to,” Jess said but did not move away from his touch. Sam was about to question her when several quiet knocks came at the door. 

A gruff voice came through the door. “General Lucian speaking - I ask entry.” 

Sam gestured for Jessica to get the door and she crossed the room with her thin night robe swishing around behind her, she grasped the handle and pulled back the hardwood. 

The general stood in the doorway clad in his armor and leathers - a unamused look decorated his face. 

They had met formally yesterday - but stories of a man who conquered Gaul alongside Caesar and led legions and cut through the enemy hordes like a knife to butter had been told to him on his way to Alexandria. A military prowess that rivaled Alexander himself, the prince would be lying if he wasn’t the slightest bit impressed. 

Sam didn’t need to be told his name - upon seeing him only a day ago he knew who he was. He looked like a conqueror indeed - a head taller than the average man and arms so thick with muscle they looked as if they could break someone in half. A pair of cool blue eyes darted around the room and landed on Sam - the prince could have sworn his eyes turned dark after landing on him but didn’t comment on it. Sam almost smirked at his interest.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, blonde eyebrows narrowing together. 

“No...there’s not much to interrupt when being locked in a room all day with nothing to do..”

Jessica showed the General in with a bowed head and softly closed the door behind him. 

Lucian looked irritated,”You’re intoxicated.”

“And you’re stating the obvious….why are you here, General?” 

The general glowered and sighed,”I’m here to tell you that you are now under my protection - I’m under orders to follow your commands within reason.”

“And what if I asked you to remove the guard by the door…”

“I would decline - you’re being kept in this room for your own safety - but I don’t think that’ll stop you from leaving in those passages you’ve mentioned.”

Sam laughed and waved a hand around the room, the bracelets around his wrists clinking and jangling. “Dad clogged up all the rat holes that he could find...If it weren’t for that I’d be gone already...”

Lucian folded his arms and stared, he did not lose his composure though and Sam could sense him growing angry. “Your father will have you executed if he finds you - take your head and display it for all of Egypt to see what your insolence costed you.” 

“Insolence?...I stood for my people...If it costs me my head - then so be it.” 

“I would call you honorable if I had never met you.”

The prince chuckled and brought the pipe back to his lips, he took a long breath of it before turning to face his Roman company again with a devious look. 

“Am I disappointing?...Do I lose the title of honorable by indulging? If that be the case then you would be unjust to the highest degree…”

Lucian sputtered, he blazed and his knuckles grew white,”Excuse me?”

“I had heard stories of you General...reports tell me that you spend your nights drunk while getting in bed with women and eunuchs till the sun comes up - we all indulge one way or another….,” The prince held out his pipe in Lucian’s direction,”Care for a smoke..?” 

“Becoming wasted on opium is not something I should do while on duty,” The anger slowly left his eyes but the irritation stayed present on his face,”What else have you heard of me?”

“I heard that you have a wonderful sense of humor...,” Sam jested - the opium getting to his head. 

“Hmph, if it was up to me I would have broken that pipe in half by now.”

“And if you did so there would be nothing stopping me from throwing you off the balcony and having the stray dogs rip you apart...but luckily it is not up to you....”

Lucian did laugh at that - a disbelieving and mocking chuckle that escaped his throat, even Sam found himself smiling a bit. 

“Why my father has decided to take an interest in you I will not understand.”

“Because your father understands the benefit I could play...let's make sure we understand each other Lucian, I offer a deal... a win win situation,” Sam moved and propped himself on his elbows to look at the general in the eye,”I get a throne... I can help you and your legions and your people. You can get rid of me... kill me and have John continue ruling till the country falls apart... but when Rome starves, there will be no one guilty of their deaths except for you and your father….” 

(The man is responsible for enough deaths already)

The general seemed to ponder that, his eyes narrowed and dipped his head in understanding, but yet he inquired with a pinched look,”Why do you care for your people? I’ve never seen a monarch - or prince for that matter - care about the residents within their country so deeply.”

“Hmmm well unlike you Romans I have actually walked among them….I don’t get my slaves to escort me on their shoulders like northerners do...I have stared them in the eyes...ate their food...wore their clothing...played with their children...and watched as they starved,” Sam paused and tilted his head at Lucian,” What about your people Lucian? What have you done to help them..?”

“I don't need to prove myself to you,” The general grits out in a voice that's meant to sound threatening - but it just comes out tired and frustrated. 

“...You cannot look me in the eyes and deny that I'm right…” Sam spoke - all playfulness leaving his throat, he gave his guest a small sad smile,”...Well, Lucian-”

“Lucifer,” the Roman said - cutting him off. The prince blinked and sat with a confused look on his face.

“My name - call me Lucifer,” He continued.

With that, Sam leaned back into the cushions and grinned at him, his eyes hooded and legs stretched out - spreading slowly and nonchalantly. 

“Well then, Lucifer - come here.” 

“I don't-” 

“You were given orders to obey me in reason - and I'm asking you - come here.”

Those dark eyes find Sam's again - hungry and drowning in a barely contained desire. The prince knew he wouldn't be swayed so quickly - but it would be fun to toy with him. 

Lucifer did walk over, hesitant footsteps - his hand moving to grip the handle of his blade. He stood in front of the prince and a grunt left his throat when Sam surged up to grab his arm and pull him down to meet him. Chests almost brushing together, Lucifer had to dart out an arm and hold himself up on the couch to avoid falling into the prince’s inviting legs. 

A henna embellished hand reached up to run a thumb over the hard lines of the general’s face, the course of his strong jawline and to his chin and back up to his cheek. Sam’s mouth was partly open - breathing soft and hot and their lips so close to touching, but instead of leaning forward Sam took a different route and -

His lips curled at Lucifer's ear - a mirth of a laugh escaped him and he whispered in a voice that was just on the verge of sinful. 

“I'm sure your father would be wanting you back now...thank you for this visit, general...”

He pushed a stunned and almost betrayed looking Lucifer off of him and went back to his pipe - smoking it like nothing had just happened. Sam watched as he stomped away and pushed the door open. In the hallway, Lucifer signaled for a man to approach and stand by the door till finally, he marched off. 

Jessica had watched everything and stood in the corner of the room with a mixture of emotions on her face - she shut the door and rushed over to the prince. 

“I thought you wanted to become allies with the Romans - what was that!?” 

“Don't worry yourself...you'll become unbalanced...and now...he's going to be more willing to help us..” 

“You've curled him around your finger.” 

“That I have...,” He paused and then felt for the vile in his robe, he stood and looked towards the door,”How many guards are out there..?”

“Just one - Vorenus I think his name was.” 

“Well...there's been something I've wanted to do since we got here,” He smiled at his servant.

“I'd like to say hello to my brother.”


	3. Brother Dearest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally had time to write - anyways - thank you all so much for commenting and leaving Kudos - I really appreciate it and It tells me whether ya'll want more. So thank you again.  
> And there's a problem with the pictures not showing up?? Idk I'll figure a way to get them up because I have them ready/ hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

Gaul had been cold and dewy and raw, but here it’s silent, that’s how Lucifer knew he was dreaming, he heard nothing but his own breathing. There was no birds, no crush of grass and mud underneath Roman feet, no yelling or screaming - just dead air. He knew where he was. Alesia.

He stood on the wall his father’s and his men built. He was looking down below at the ground - he could barely see through the fog and mist - but he knew what was coming, and this time, he was alone. It’s a chilling feeling - being alone. The deafening silence and the pure solitude sent chills up his spine. Even underneath thick Roman clothing with leathers and furs, he felt cold. Lucifer knew it wasn’t real deep down, but he had no way to escape his past, not even in his sleep.

He waited and soon after, it began. He could hear footsteps, small and distant but growing closer till they sounded as if they were directly under him. His breath caught in his throat as the fog began to clear, he didn’t blink once.

Underneath him was a small figure, he could make out long brunette hair and a hunched over body. A little girl. She just sat there in silence, not moving at all. He squinted and leaned closer to the edge.

The fog was almost completely gone, and Lucifer could see everything clearly now and -

There’s blood - lots of it.

It’s all over the ground, dying the grass a deep red, and encompassing the girl seated by the wall.

_Sam paused and tilted his head at Lucian,” What about your people Lucian? What have you done to help them..?”_

The girl moved and faced upwards and looked at the general - Lucifer watched in shock as blood dribbled from her mouth, the deep red had stained her face and clothes, but it did little to hide the protruding collar bone and sunken eyes. Two bright orbs of green locked on with pale blue and the general stood and watched helplessly as tears of pure pain and anguish left her eyes.

_Help me_

_I can’t_ , Is what he wanted to say, but he’s frozen in place. He has a mission, he has a purpose, he has a job to finish, a father to make proud, and a country to help. He does not move, instead, he watched, he watched as the child crumpled on the ground - just as she had years ago.

_What is the cost of getting what you want?_

He remained still, the clouds above had gone gray and he heard the thunder rolling in from a distance.

_Lucian._

He finally moved - shaking his head and pushing away from the side of the wall.

_Lucian._

Then, he ran. He ran across the wood boards of the fortress into the seeming nothingness. He was alone yet again, the posts were empty, the tents had no sleeping soldiers in them, the training yards were barren, and not a single horse was in the stables. He couldn’t breathe - eyes wouldn’t focus and he still kept going and-

“General Lucian!”

Lucifer bolted up in bed, sweat sticking the sheets to his skin and pulling them off to face his company. One of his men, Raphael, stood there beside the bed with a tense and nervous look on his face. The general squinted at him in the low lighting, angry to be suddenly awoken - and additionally, in his own quarters.

“What is it?!” Lucifer growled and reached up to rub his eyes, he could think of better ways to be woken up.

“Sir - I apologize for waking you - Alistair’s men sent me.”

“And? Alistair better have a damn good reason, Azazel went easy on him the last time he was whipped.”

“There's been a situation, Sir.”

“Get to the point already! What has happened?!”

“The prince, sir,” Raphael gulped,”He’s gone.”

Q

  
Sam always liked the large expanses of the palace - the tall ceilings and walls that loomed over him as a giant would a man, it made him feel lost but at the same time, hidden. Hidden behind the tall pillars and columns when groups of officials moved down the halls talking about the uprisings springing up all over the country. Hidden when the sun had receded into the hills and only the light of torches lit his way- he enjoyed the power that came from being a prince and having the center stage - but he also relished the secrecy and shadows that the palace corridors provided.

He escaped his suite with ease, Jessica had, of course, warned him and pleaded for him to wait for the Romans to make their move but he persisted- he was a soon to be king, he would not wait for other empires to decide the fate of his country - it only made him weak. He waited till the effects of the opium had lessened and the halls had become quiet - only a single guard watched the door. Sam realized soon after that Roman men are weak to seduction - he figured that they weren't used to the erômenos initiating anything.

After using what the gods had gifted to him he slipped into the hallway and halted at every corner - looking around to see if any unwanted eyes would spot him - pressing himself so closely against the walls that he could feel the cut stone digging into his skin through his attire.

Light on his heels, Sam padded around the twisting hallways with his feet making quiet sounds on the marble, if he was caught he knew the consequences - torture being one - death being another. John wasn’t merciful to anyone, not even his sons. Being the king of Egypt was surely a title that gained respect and responsibility - and above all - power. Sam never knew a father that wasn’t cruel, he suspected that Dean did, but of course, he was to blame for that. Bringing the death of his mother in childbirth damned him since the day he came into the world.

He didn’t have much time, soon the halls would be bustling with servants and guards, the Romans would be sure to notice his absence - he needed to get to Dean.

Eventually, he found his way to his brother’s suite, a single servant stood outside the door with a stack of freshly cleaned linens, she stood facing away from the prince. He could use her to get in. Sam snuck up behind her and grabbed her swiftly, covering her mouth with his hand - she dropped the linens and tried to fight the attack - screaming into his palm.

“I’m not going to hurt you-” He said in a hushed tone but was cut off due to teeth biting into his hand, drawing blood and pushing a pained grunt out of him.

Sam drew back his hand and the servant took it as her chance to flee - he was about to chase after her before she could alert any guards but the momentous doors to his side opened and out appeared a familiar figure.

“What’s going on out- Sam?!” Dean stood there gaping at his brother, his eyes widened in surprise. His brother was dressed in his typical sleep robes with smudged kohl around his lids - looking exactly the same as how he’d left him. The crown prince’s eyes darted around the hallway and he made a hasty decision. Dean moved quickly and pulled Sam into his suite, promptly shutting the door behind them.

“Dean-”

“You need to leave. Now. That servant is going to alert the guards,” His brother rushed out,”You can’t be here.”

“We need to talk-”

  
“We don’t need to talk about anything Sam!” Dean raged, snapping his head around and glaring him with eyes brimming with anger. It had been months since they’ve seen each other, Sam only knew one place to go - to only one person that had seemingly had his back for years.

“Please,” He begged - reaching out for his brother, ”Dean you have to listen to me.”

“Have to? He’s going to kill you if he finds you, just go Sam...go out through the balcony, or behind the tapestry ..just get out.” Dean gritted, his teeth grinding against each other as he blazed, underneath his furious exterior Sam could sense his tiredness - he looked drained and beat - conflicted above all.

“Dean...you're my brother,” Sam paused and gulped,”you know what’s going on.”

Sam stalked towards Dean, “You know what's happening out there.”

“I do,” Dean let out a breath,”But I can’t betray him.” He plopped down into an empty chair and held his head in his hands - back facing his brother, not even bothering to make eye contact. Sam remembered what happened before everything went to hell, he remembered quietly advancing on John - the dagger in his hands - ready to strike and thrust it down into his father’s back, and he remembered what he was doing it for. His people. His people who were dying because of John’s selfishness, his brutality, his ego - and Sam could not stand it.

Sam was going to bring the blade down into the pharaoh's flesh until hands gripped his arms and stopped the Dagger's descent. He remembered his brother’s voice screaming for him to stop and hands pushed him away and ripped the weapon out of his grip.

“Why? After all, he’s done? Why do you still defend him!?” Sam demanded, his eyes burning holes into Dean’s back. His voice echoed throughout the room, he was becoming irritated - Dean needed to listen to him.

“He’s our father Sam! Our blood - the person who took care of us!” His brother yelled, snapping his head around to bare his teeth at the banished prince.

Sam let out a mocking chuckle and sneered, “Took care of us? No - our servants did that work. He spent our childhood fucking slaves and trying to drown out his grief,” he said.

“...I-I can’t Sam - I won’t.” Dean forced out, eyes pleading.

“People are dying Dean, women, children - our people. I won’t stand for it, please - we can fix this together.” Behind the walls, Sam could hear footsteps and screaming - the guards are coming - but he wasn’t moving a muscle.

“They’re gonna kill you, you have to go. Now.” Dean said, getting up and pushing at his shoulders. Sam knew the punishment for treason and murder - he knew what would happen to him - but instead of running to escape - he stood there and stared deep into Dean’s eyes.

“I’m not leaving - we’re brothers - we can rule as them,” Sam said.

“I don’t even know you anymore Sam,” Dean breathed,”You’ve lost your mind!”

  
“I’m not gonna sit by and watch this happen! You know the consequences!”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into here Sam, _Caesar_ and _General Lucian_ can’t help you - there are bigger powers at play.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dean shook his head, “I can’t explain this now - you have to leave before it’s too late, please Sam.”

Sam reached into his robes and pulled out the vile of poison and grabbed one of Dean’s hands and pressed it to his palm, “For once in your life stop following Dad’s orders - do whats right - please Dean.”

Dean shook his head angrily and chucked the vile across the room and watched as it rolled under the desk - he turned back to Sam who looked at him with dark eyes.

“Leave. Now.”

The sounds of guards had gotten louder and Sam is sure they had caught on by now- the clanking of armor and swords and shields can be heard through the walls.

Didn’t say a thing or move a muscle, Sam just stood and looked at Dean with something on the lines between betrayal and a barely contained fury.

The doors behind them are suddenly thrown open and Sam didn’t turn to face the intruders - Dean was looking at him with a horror stricken expression and made one more final futile attempt to push him away but Sam didn’t budge.

And then there were arms forcing Sam down and kicking him to the floor - the ends of spears were thrown into his stomach and bruising his ribs. He let out a grunt of pain but made no attempt to halt the attack, he just let them kick and punch and swing their fists at his face.

His nose bled onto the floor and his legs and arms throbbed, they pulled him across the floor broken and bruised and the last thing he saw before a final strike landed in his face was Dean looking at him with anguish.

His father would surely be _happy_ to see him.


	4. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back with that 4,000 word chapter

Sam came back to the world in bursts, swirls of color invaded his vision with caliginous silhouettes, he felt as if he was seeing from underwater. He didn’t know how long it took him till he realized he was being dragged. It could have been days that he’d been pulled along, but with the realization, he was shifted from floating in the void and pushed back into the fleshy and beaten vessel that was his body. He could feel the hard press of hands on his arms and wrists which sent tingles of alertness to his brain. The Prince tried to remember where he was, what he was doing.  
  
He dug around in the corners of his mind, he remembered escaping his room and finding Dean - trying to persuade him to join him, and Dean’s rejection. What did he expect? Dean was loyal to their father, he should have known better. The caring brother he had in his past was no longer, and Sam had to come to terms with it. Even in his hazy state, he scolded himself for being so blind - so stupid - he promised himself he would never be weak again and yet here he was.  
  
With the little amount of energy he gathered, he forced his eyes open and found himself looking at polished marble floors. The gleam of light that bounced up from the surface blinded him for a moment but he could see his reflection in the shine - it wasn’t pretty. Bruises and cuts were dotted across his shoulders and cheeks, some of his tattoos were almost completely covered in an angry purple.  
  
His father’s guards were dragging him along, two of them had Sam’s arms, preventing him from doing much other than being moved to their will. There had to be at least fifteen of them, he would have laughed at the excess of men, but Sam knew who he was - and he assumed his father did too.  
  
They rounded a corner and passed by some of the residents - few of them he knew. Torches and fire pits lit up their shocked faces as he passed by. Cooks and priests and servants that he had grown up knowing - Missouri, a noblewoman from Berenice, and Brady, son of a royal scribe, gasped as they saw him lugged forward. He knew where their alliances laid, but for their own safety, they knew it was best not to interfere.  
  
Sam knew there had to be some way out, he didn’t have the strength to fight at the moment and he certainly couldn’t play the part of the minx - not in his beaten state and not with his father’s loyalists. He wondered idly about the Romans, whether they knew about his current situation or even cared. Sam knew his father was afraid of the Romans, what they could claim and pillage with their legions. In the best case scenario for John, the Romans would interfere and put down the revolts, and on the offhand, the Romans were looking for conquest.  
  
Rendering Egypt into nothing more than a Roman province, Sam cringed internally at the thought.  
  
Either by his hand or another’s, Egypt was chanting and praying for the same thing, painting it on the walls and writing it in their letters - a phrase of motivation to the rebels.  
__  
_Down with the King._  
  
Not only had John ignored his people and kept them from having any voice, but he had also done it to Sam. As the second and final legitimate son, Sam was neglected and tossed aside - his father never even looked in his direction. It was in the young prince’s wildest dreams where he made his father kneel. A show of dominance and revenge, his blood boiled thinking about the pain he would give to his father if he could.  
  
Sam hadn’t seen a single Roman since the one who was guarding his suite. He figured if they were even aware of what was happening, that they weren’t too happy with Sam’s “fun” with the guard. The prince had his hands all over the Roman guard, slipping them across his chest plate and under his tunic, cupping his cock and stroking it to life. He knew that the Roman wanted to refuse - force Sam back into his suite - call for a eunuch to guard the door, but he leaned into Sam’s touch.  
  
Sam pulled away, whispered an excuse, saying he would be back later to finish what they started, and pranced into the dark of the hallway - leaving the flushed and utterly dazed man standing there.  
  
_General Lucian wouldn’t be happy about that._ __  
  
_No, he wouldn’t_ , Sam wanted to reply.  
  
His plans, everything he had worked for, his promises and alliances had been demolished in that very day because of his attachment to his brother, his friend. The royal court would surely be spitting and mocking his image, tarnishing everything that he was, everything that he could have been. Sam could feel himself shaking with a barely contained anger.  
  
If no escape could be found, he would be executed.  
  
They finally came to a set of heavy tall bronze doors, the eyes of Horus was etched into the metalwork with various other stories of the old gods. Sam had sent his prayers and kneeled at the altar of his gods, whether of Greece or Egypt. With his previous actions, no matter how good their intent, he figured he wasn’t so much of a virtuous man in the eyes of the gods.  
  
The large door opened and the guards dragged him forward, and before he could even gain his bearings, he was thrown onto the marble, the hard impact knocking the air out of him. Sam coughed and pushed himself up, standing on wobbly legs and squinting around the room. A smaller quarter of the palace - not as decorated and gold lined as the rest of the complex. There was a row of men seated feet in front of him, all in their robes and all looking old and grey, and all Greek.  
  
In the middle of them sat John who’s eyes were dark pools of something Sam couldn’t put his finger on, and his lips were pulled back to reveal a cruel and satisfied smile. The prince’s blood was set aflame by his presence, and he wanted nothing more than to strangle the man where he sat. What their ancestors had built in the last two hundred years had crumbled under John’s fingers, not only a disgrace to the dynasty but a figure who deserved to pay for what he did to his people, what he did to Sam.  
  
The dark circles under John’s eyes seemed to have grown permanent since the last time they saw each other, just by his appearance alone Sam knew John was losing a battle, and not one entirely fought on Egyptian soil but in his own heart - it must’ve been stressful to know your kingdom wants you dead.  
  
The cast of people sitting on either side of his father whispered to one another, smirking at him and pointing their fingers - planning his punishments surely.  
  
“I take it you’re quite pleased with yourself?” Sam asked, glaring at his father, speaking bravely.  
  
“His Majesty hasn’t permitted you to speak-”  
  
“Silence Theodotus, my son shall speak, he won’t be doing much more of it.”  
  
“Hmph, do I not get a trial?” The prince acquired through his lashes.  
  
A man to the left of John handed him a scroll which the King promptly read aloud, “Prince Sam Ptolemy has been tried and found guilty of with murder and attempted murder, conspiracy against the throne, aiding and abetting war against the throne and additionally, the manipulation of multiple allies of the crown - the punishment of which is death.”  
  
“Is that it?”  
  
John paused for a moment and tilted his head, but he seemed to try to play an uncaring role. “A public execution would be fitting, and if you cannot control your tongue you shall have it ripped out.  
  
Sam couldn’t help it, he fought hard but he couldn’t control the mirth of a laugh that left his throat. “Are you sure a public execution would be justice for my crimes?”  
  
The scroll crunched where it was held in John’s hands,”Would you prefer we cut off your head and place it on a pike by the square?”  
  
  
The prince grinned,”With the hostility happening within your own country, are you sure it would be best to kill me and let Egypt see?”  
  
“You will be made an example of, any followers would be given the same treatment.”  
  
“Even if I die John, your kingdom will fall,” Sam pinned the Pharaoh with his eyes,”Egypt will not stop till it has your head.”  
  
His father looked irritated. The King stood from his chair with a creak and crossed the room to come eye to eye with his son. Since Sam was taller and leaner than practically every man he faced, John only came up to his forehead, but the dominance that he gave off from the way he talked made up the difference.  
  
Sam expected the anger, what he didn’t expect was the slap that followed.  
  
When John’s brutal backhand met Sam’s cheek, the prince put his strength into staying on his feet and retaining his balance. The hit was a shock and sent Sam’s head to the side, he slowly looked back at his father. The rings that adorned John’s fingers surely drew blood and Sam could taste the iron in his mouth.  
  
“You stupid boy,” His father growled and sent another hand flying towards his son’s face, “Never grateful for everything I’ve done for you.”  
  
The prince forced out a breath and reached up to wipe away the blood that was trailing down his chin.  
  
“Are you so ignorant to the truth? With what I’ve started this rebellion will destroy you,” Sam ground out through his pain. John had never been there, a distant figure his entire life. His father never looked at him as a son - rather a leech, a parasite. Maybe in a different world where his mother had survived his birth, John would’ve been the father he should’ve been.  
  
“I am your blood,” John said, grabbing the collar of Sam’s tunic,”but you defy me, try to overthrow me.”  
  
“People. Are. Dying.”  
  
“They mean nothing.”  
  
“They mean everything, you’re letting them starve because you would rather spend your gold on things that make you forget mother.”  
  
“Don’t speak of her,” His father muttered darkly, practically spitting in Sam’s face, the grip on Sam’s bloodstained tunic tightened.  
  
“Am I not wrong?” The prince’s skin became hot, what he said did not matter now, the only thing scarier than a man on a throne was a man who had nothing left to lose. He was captured, broken and beaten, but he would be damned if he couldn’t say what was the truth.  “You let your people die because you can’t accept that the only person who ever loved you is gone. Kill me if you must - but it will not stop my rebellion.”  
  
John glowered,“This whole ‘saint’ bullshit you’ve been feeding to everyone, trying to project yourself as the best ruler - a voice of the people...,” The Pharaoh paused and smirked,”You don’t give a shit about them do you?”  
  
“I know what you’re doing, and what you are,” The Pharaoh continued with a slow drawl,”You want power, and you saw an opportunity.”  
  
“W-what’re you talking about?” Sam forced out, not trusting himself to say much else. John circled him like a predator and its prey, waiting to strike and bring it home to devour.  
  
“The country as you say is in an uproar, riots, people wanting the end of the existing king - how perfect would it be if a figure came out of the dark and promised a change? To do away with the Pharaoh and appoint himself as king?” He came up behind Sam and breathed in his ear,”It would be a _perfect_ revenge wouldn’t it?”  
  
John wasn’t done yet,“You’d let every man in this damn world fuck you if it meant you’d ascend to power, your allies only want you for your body, but your youth is running out boy - no king wants to fuck a man.”  
  
“I do whatever I can for my people, if I have to use my body, so be it,” Sam muttered.  
  
“You’ve managed to convince and tell yourself that this is what you want, this is what you’ve always wanted - but I know you, as soon as you grasp power, the people will mean nothing to you.”  
  
“You’re lying,” The prince retorted,”You don’t know them the way I do.”  
  
“Hm, possibly, but I don’t mingle with the ingrates, they only waste my time.”  
  
“And you’re also a pathetic excuse for a king.”  
  
“At least I don’t earn my power by bending over to any man with gold in his pocket. I take it you’ve tried to lure Caesar and General Lucian into your clutches?”  
  
Sam blinked,”What’re you talking about?”  
  
“Isn’t that why you’re here now? To find a way into their beds? I’m sure Lucian wasn’t gentle, he doesn’t seem like the type that would be.”  
  
_Chests almost brushing together, Lucifer had to dart out an arm and hold himself up on the couch to avoid falling into the prince’s inviting legs._  
  
Sam refused to answer, and John smirked,”Were you shared between him and his father? Did they take you by force? Did they use you so badly that you regretted stepping back into Alexandria?”  
  
_His lips curled at Lucifer's ear - a mirth of a laugh escaped him and he whispered in a voice that was just on the verge of sinful._

  
The Pharaoh raised a brow at Sam’s silence and walked back to his chair. It was only then Sam had realized his advisors had gone quiet, all had watched the scene unfold in front of them with wide eyes. The guards that were circled around them tried to keep their faces nonchalant but the prince could sense their fear.  
  
“There is still a matter of your execution, an alternative to a public beheading would be to have you rot in the cells,”The king said dully as if the previous burning anger had boiled away and left a bored man in its stead. John turned to his right,”Let him in.”  
  
A guard reached for the handle of the door and pulled it open and Dean Ptolemy was shown in. An icy draft felt as if it had encompassed Sam’s heart, he did not trust himself to speak, just watched from where he stood as his brother took his place beside John. Behind him followed a slave which handed wine and other refreshments to the viewers.  
  
“What did you do to him?” Dean asked, somewhat erratic, taking in Sam’s beaten and bruised form. Gripping the back of John’s chair tightly, enough so that his knuckles were a stark white.  
  
“The boy asked for it,” The King said to him and tilted his head at Sam,”Didn’t you Sam?”  
  
“Fuck. You.”  
  
“I guess we have your wonderful scholars and tutors at the library to thank for your impeccable vocabulary, it would be a shame if something were to happen to them-”  
  
“Dad-” Dean began but was stopped immediately.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’ve grown soft.”  
  
The crown prince stammered for a reply,”Do away with Sam, leave the others out of it.”  
  
Sam gulped and forced back the prickling in his eyes, “If you’re going to kill me father, best to get it over with now.”  
  
John hummed and sipped his wine, his eyes found Dean.  
  
“Well Dean, you know your way with a whip, am I correct?”  
  
The silence in the room was deafening, Sam wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore - his eyes pinned to Dean. He could feel the tremors in his skin, the hot Egyptian night did nothing to warm the spikes of cold in his chest.  
  
“..Yes, father.”  
  
“Tomorrow I want you to find Rufus and ask him to clear a spot in the whipping field, It’s about time Sam was taught his lesson.”      
  
A chill ran up Sam’s spine, he watched the exchange with his heart beating in his ears.  
  
“I can’t-”  
  
“You will, I don’t care for excuses now Dean.”  
  
“I won’t do this-”  
  
“Damn it, Dean,” John growled, taking another long sip of his wine,”I’ll have _you_ whipped as well if you don’t comply, Sam is no longer your brother but a traitor - understand that now.”  
  
Dean moved away from his father’s chair, his eyes glaring holes into the back of John’s head, “Sam is family, if he dies, he dies as my brother.”  
  
“Your ‘brother’ is a _traitor_ , a _whore_ , and a _liar_ \- why would you even want to consider yourself related to this?”  
  
John signaled again with his fingers and the guards moved to seize Dean, the crown prince struggled in their grasp and pushed against them.  
  
“Let go of me!” He shouted, trying to free his hand to hit one of the guards square in the face.    
  
“Struggle all you wish,” John coughed,”They won’t be gentle.”  
  
Sam tried to look over the heads of the aristocrats to see Dean getting pulled along by force, his brother obviously struggling against the attack. The other members of court whispering to each other.  
  
“Your Majesty, it might be best to settle this tomorrow-” One spoke.  
  
“No-” Another cough forces its way out of John’s throat,”This will be done tonight.”  
  
Sam raised a brow at John’s hacking, and only till when John’s hand grasped his throat, the court new something was wrong. The gasping was loud and the prince heard gurgling from where he stood.  
  
“He’s choking!” Someone calls out, and from there chaos ensued.  
  
The Pharaoh hunched over where he sat, trying to regain his breath - his court advisors had either bolted to the doors or ran to help, trying to force out whatever was causing John to choke. In the heat of the moment, Sam backed up into a guard, his eyes locked on with the scene in front of him. The guard grabbed onto his arms and forced him down with a startled grunt.  
  
Somewhere in the back, Sam can see Dean, moving further into the corner of the room till the wall touched his back.  
  
“G-get off me!” Sam struggled underneath the grasp of the guard, writhing in his arms, his chance for escape was now.  
  
John was shifting on the floor, desperately trying to breathe. His skin had turned a pale color and blood was dripping from the seam of his lips, dying his teeth a rich red. Sam had to swallow his disgust and shock of the situation, voices were getting louder and louder and the prince was certain he could hear the sounds of dozens of feet stomping outside the doors.  
  
_“Never accept a drink from an enemy - I thought with as many travels you Roman conquerors make you would have learned that by now”_  
  
The body of the Pharaoh contracted and spasmed, his nose now leaking a peculiar white substance. The cup he was drinking from laid discarded on the floor next to him, kicked away by a flying foot - the deep color of the wine stained the floor.  
  
_‘It’s probably poisoned, I’d advise you pour it out”_  
  
A large crashing sound broke through the room and Sam could only focus enough to see that the door was being battered open, Guards had either taken a place beside the king or held their spears out defensively by the door.  
  
_Dean_ .  
  
Sam spared John a final glance, the figure on the floor was no longer moving - just the occasional twitch of his jeweled fingers. A puddle of blood had formed around his head and there was a steady stream of it from his mouth. The King was dead, he had drowned in his own blood. In the end, Sam had expected John’s death to be swift and unsuspecting, although it was rather unexpected, it was a horrible way to die - even for a man like John. The poison that Samandriel had gifted him had surely done the work and Dean had carried it out.  
  
Snapping out of his haze, the prince tried once more to force himself out of the guard’s grasp. The door wouldn’t last much longer - whatever force behind it was surely going to get in. Through the metalwork Sam could hear shouts in Latin, the slap of sandals on the marble - the Romans were here.  
  
With one last deafening clash, the door burst open and a sea of red and glinting armor filled the room. With the guard holding him distracted, Sam pushed himself up and kicked his legs at the man’s ankles, stunning the man for a moment long enough that Sam reached for his sword and promptly hacked the man in the neck, the swing of the blade so strong that the handle piece fell off and the metal stuck in his neck. The hot spray of blood on his skin was nothing new to him and he didn’t give the man a second glance as he crumpled, clutching the fresh wound and gurgling blood.  
  
Sam watched as the Roman troops invaded the room and cut down the royal guard, in the midst of the commotion, Sam saw a familiar pair of cool blue eyes. The general sliced through a man, his blade struck at the figure longer than necessary - snarling as the guard’s chest became nothing more than a mush of cut flesh and blood. Lucifer’s eyes found his, partly widened and filled with something on the verge of vengeful while taking in Sam’s beaten features, and he dashed over to meet Sam, standing in front of him protectively.    
  
“Took you long enough!” Sam yelled over the screams and clash of metal.  
  
“You’re the one who had to go ahead and get captured!” Lucifer yelled back at him, gripping his sword tightly in both hands.  
  
The numbers of royal guard were dwindling, their blood flowed like a river over the smooth marble. The remaining advisors huddled in the back, Dean, however, Sam couldn’t see.  
  
“Ah- yes, like you expected me to follow your orders!”  
  
Lucifer ducked under a swing and pushed at his opposer, the man falling to the ground and desperately trying to grasp his weapon - which the general kicked away.  
  
“I did actually, and yet here we are!”  
  
  
Lucifer thrust his sword down into the collarbone of the man, ending his life in a fatal strike.  
  
“I don’t follow the orders of Romans!”  
  
In the middle of the chaos, Sam swore he heard the general let out a mocking chuckle, disbelieving and utterly irritated.  
  
Eventually, the guards had been disposed of and their bodies were strewn out across the floor, no Roman had been killed and only a few were injured. In the daze of the moment, everything happening so fast, Sam notices a Ptolemaic guard rise up to Lucifer’s side - but the general is distracted and unnoticing of the figure creeping up on him. Sam made a quick and fast decision to grab Lucifer’s sword from his grip.  
  
“Hey-”  
  
Lucifer is silenced when his sword connects with the dead center of the attacker’s face. Sam grunted as he pulled the weapon from the bloody cavity. He handed it to Lucifer without an expression on his face.  
  
“..thanks,” He muttered and Sam almost smirked at him, but his thoughts drifted away from his savior and to his father.  
  
The body of the Pharaoh remained where he had died, and Sam felt a wave of a fulfilled heat run over him, the king was dead. Poisoned by his first son, within his own palace, among his own people, Sam couldn’t have been more grateful for how the outcome was. Dean was nowhere to be seen, a part of Sam’s heart urged to find his brother and embrace him, but he remained where he stood.  
  
Lucifer’s eyes scanned the room and narrowed at the corpse still covered in glittering gold.  
  
“How did he die?” Lucifer asked, but not unkindly - as if his previous irritation had faded away.  
  
“Poison...He didn’t even know what hit him.”  
  
“I’m sorry-”  
  
“Don’t be, he deserved worse.” Sam growled, he turned away, coming face to face with the general,”And now what shall you do?”  
  
“I figure Egypt will need some assistance adjusting to their new _king_ ,” Lucifer answered, and his eyes drifted to John’s loyal court, who squirmed with the glance from the general.  
  
_King_ .  
  
The word rolled over in his head a few times and Sam couldn’t help but let out a breath of pure relief. He had done it. John was dead, the Romans were at his back, and he was King.  
  
“Let's get to it then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye ya'll can see the art for the fic on my tumblr: https://shebahda.tumblr.com/ - hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter, be sure to leave some kudos and comments if you'd like to see more - Thank you for reading.


	5. Balcony Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy ya'll guess whos not dead and wrote a fuckton more tension

By the time the sun had gone and night hung over Egypt, Lucifer was exhausted but did not retreat to bed. The view from one of the balconies in the royal palace was astounding and the general spent his evening perched on the rail, overlooking the city in all its glory. The great lighthouse painted the dark waves a golden color and the city glowed as brightly as a torch. It echoed with life and Lucifer could hear the celebrations from where he sat. Egypt and Rome were very different places, but with a view like that, the general had to admit they looked the same.    
  
Somewhere beyond the horizon and sea, home awaited. Rome was a long way from Alexandria, and after years of fighting, he ached to return. Lucifer knew his men did too. They were bratty and irritable, itching to see their families, and there the general could sympathize. Lucifer had received word that his villa and slaves were well taken care of, and he would garner a warm welcome upon returning. Michael had also kindly added that he offered to pay for a throng of brothel whores in case the General would like to indulge. Lucifer did stifle a chuckle at that.    
  
There were still things to be done in the land of the Nile, Rome would have to wait. The hours following the death of John were chaotic and bloody. Lucifer was surprised he left unscathed. With most of the royal guard put in shackles or decapitated, they had secured the palace, and by nightfall, all of Alexandria. The nile had turned to blood once more by the time the opposers were dealt with.The Prince, or King rather, was vulnerable without a guard, and Sam was accompanied by Lucifer’s garrison. It was still Lucifer’s duty and his father's orders to do so.    
  
When the people of Alexandria had received word of what the Romans and Sam had done, throngs of joyous men and women formed outside the palace gate. They carried wreaths of Jasmine and some of their possessions, offering them to their King, or rather, their savior. Sam had looked at them with a wide smile and turned to his new head of the Ptolemaic guard, Brady, and said: “As my first order as King, get the men to open the granaries, Alexandria will starve no longer.” Brady nodded and fulfilled his order. The day was full of celebration and wine, Lucifer did not have time to linger, but a small girl had snuck away from the festivities and ran under the legs of some of the guards. A small head of dark coarse hair stopped in front of Lucifer with picked roses clutched tightly in her fingers.    
  
She stood on her tiptoes and offered him the bundle of flowers, whispering “Gratias tibi” as he took the flowers in his hand. She scampered off and Lucifer couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face. It was the first time since Alesia he believed he had done something right.   
  
Now, sitting on the rail of the balcony, he examined the flowers. His fingers gently brushed over a wilting petal, and with a gust of wind coming from the east, the petal flew off and into the sky. He watched it be carried off into the dark before it escaped from his sight. Lucifer didn’t know when he became so soft, he scolded himself for so - knowing if his thoughts kept drifting to such he'd become a romantic. He wondered if the small girl who gifted him the flowers new of what the Romans did in Gaul, and if she had, Lucifer knew she would've shivered and feared for her life.    
  
Lucifer didn’t hear Raphael approach, but the man cleared his throat just loud enough for the general to be snapped out of his thoughts. Lucifer turned to see the armored figure standing behind him holding papyrus. Raphael’s dark eyes avoided looking at the flowers still clutched in Lucifer's hand.    
  
“Messages from Rome my lord.”   
  
Lucifer tilted his head with a furrowed brow,”Continue.”   
  
The soldier nodded and handed Lucifer a scroll, speaking to him as the general read over lines of Latin. “Senator Michael and Castiel are on their way to Egypt to congratulate the new king, a show of friendship between Rome and Egypt.”    
  
“Michael in Egypt?” He laughed bitterly,”I can only imagine the worst.”    
  
“He can be...unreasonable.”    
  
“Can? My brother never listens to anyone other than himself, the idea of him here...and Castiel - the two of them will be the death of me.” Lucifer sighed while rubbing his eyes in a tired and frustrated manner.   
  
Lucifer knew his brother, hard-headed and loyal to Rome - Michael had his way with words and plans. The man's cunning was something to be feared by anyone. The General just hoped his snark and ego wouldn’t get him socked in the jaw upon arriving in Alexandria. Lucifer could trust Castiel to be more civilized, but the man was uncultured in a great length of things. Lucifer could practically see his squinted eyes and narrowed dark brows after being told something he didn’t understand.    
  
“Pardon me if I speak out of place my lord, but would you not be happy to see them?”   
  
“They’re my brothers, doesn’t mean I enjoy every second of their company.” Lucifer huffed and folded his arms.    
  
“Understood sir, but it’s been years since you’ve been in Rome.”   
  
”Yes, but Egypt might not be the right place to convene.”    
  
“You’re worried they might cause trouble?”   
Raphael asked timidly, shifting his weight between his feet.    
  
“Castiel no, Michael yes - I just hope the King will be somewhat merciful with Michael’s behavior.”   
  
“He seems to be a reasonable figure so far.”   
  
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, ”So far. He’s.. .unpredictable, he knows what he wants and how to get it, if he plays his cards correctly - Michael and he would get along well enough.”   
  
“Michael is heir to Rome. If Egypt and Rome are going to continue their alliance-”    
  
“Then Michael and Sam both need to understand each other,” he finished quickly.   
  
Sam was to be holding an event in the wake of his newfound kingship. He had invited figures from all over the Mediterranean to attend, of course, this was no small gathering or a gentle display of his crown, but rather as an attempt to make and further solidify alliances. Lucifer knew he had plenty. Azazel had repeated the rumors he heard about the prince in their Barracks, with slurred words and a loosening grip on his mead. Azazel had a group of other men huddled around him, panting to hear what they could about the rumors surrounding the new king.    
  
“He's the siren of Râ-Kadet,” Azazel had repeated, looking around at his listeners - the fire pit in the center of the room lighting his face in dark contrasts. “‘Known for catching men in his grasps with his beauty.”    
  
Lucifer had waited in the corner of the room while this happened, pretending to not be listening with a wax tablet in his hands. His ears had seemingly perked up at the shallow mention of Sam, he was interested to hear at least, more information the better, or that was what he told himself.    
  
“As soon as his father ran his ass out of Alexandria, the boy started using what he got’ to get what he wanted - smuggled into the palaces and houses of kings and nobles to strut his goods’.” Azazel continued, his lewd grin growing larger - lips pulling back to show sharp white teeth.    
  
“They took him up on his offer, in no time the boy had found a way into their minds, all of them willing to do what the prince wanted with a bat of his eyes,”Azazel murmured, and the men around him laughed.    
  
Lucifer gripped the tablet tighter, his eyes followed the dancing shadows on the walls. The men were entranced by this storytelling, their ears eager to hear more.    
  
“It ain't no coincidence that the kid decided to head to Alexandria as soon as we arrived, you know the Ptolemies, all eager to befriend the most important Roman of the day.”   
  
The soldier’s raucous voice left room for the imagination and the air suddenly became very cold.    
  
“I know he's here for Caesar and Lucian, and once he's done with them, he'll move onto Michael.”    
  
Lucifer stood abruptly and discarded the tablet, walking over to the surprised group of men with a passive expression but anger present in his eyes. He demanded them to silence themselves and end their squabble. They didn’t say a word for the rest of the night.    
  
It was hard to imagine Sam as such, but he considered his ascent to power - his lingering touches and swaying hips - it seemed as though Azazel had been right. He cursed himself for even considering that Sam might've liked…..He sighed and chided himself once more.    
  
Lucifer thought back to  Michael and the idea of Michael and Sam in the same room. The premise of them even breathing the same air set his blood aflame for reasons he couldn't explain or admit himself.    
  
“And Castiel, what about him, Raphael?” The general inquired. He’d been wanting to hear about his raven-haired brother for some time.    
  
“He’s preparing to embark from Carthage, reports say that he will meet with Michael in Cyprus and then sail to Alexandria.” The soldier added, answering simply but not rudely.    
  
He smirked, satisfied, and asked:“Is that all Raphael?”    


“Dean Ptolemy is still missing, and Vorenus was crucified this morning, that is all I’m afraid.”

  
Lucifer nodded and signaled his permission to leave. Raphael’s armored figure turned and he pushed back the curtains that led to the balcony. He was surprised to see a familiar figure approaching.    
  
“Your majesty,” Raphael said reverently but did not bow. He held the curtain open so the new king could slip through, Lucifer paid him a small glance but did not speak.    
  
Sam’s appearance was no longer battered or bruised but had returned to it’s youthful and supple state. His skin seemed to glow in the pale moonlight and a certain gleam in Sam’s eyes made him look kind and approachable. Lucifer could still notice the faint tints of an unnatural purple on his skin, but everything took time to heal. Sam’s mass of wavy brunette hair framed his face and was almost long enough to flow past his shoulders, the wisps of a breeze caught in the strands and gave it a blown back look. The general’s pale blue eyes enjoyed engorging on the sight of the boy. They traced over the soft pink in his lips and the dark khôl lining around his eyes.     
  
Gold beads had been woven into his hair and his collar was adorned with an intricate jade and lapis wesekh, he certainly would have appeared as the part of the king if it wasn’t for his lithe body and innocent looking face. Lucifer didn’t let his eyes stray down Sam’s form, which was covered in a slightly transparent black fabric. He kept his eyes on Sam’s face, and the boyking seemed to find it amusing.    
  
“Thank you, Raphael, you’re dismissed,” Sam said plainly and the soldier moved away and out of sight, leaving Sam and Lucifer on the balcony, alone.    
  
Sam approached Lucifer with confident strides and came up to where the general was sitting on the side. He set his elbows on the rail. Lucifer watched as he drank in the sight of Alexandria with his eyes, he looked pleased.    
  
It wasn't every day when a king decided to approach Lucifer. The youth turned to him, his gaze only slightly trailing down to the flowers.   
  
“Who is she?” Sam asked teasingly as if speaking to Lucifer as a good friend.    
  
Lucifer's eyes narrowed,“What?”    
  
“The flowers, are they for someone I know?”    
  
The General shook his head,”A girl gave them to me.” He said truthfully, rubbing his thumb up and down the stem. Lucifer felt slightly uncomfortable with Sam's presence, it was only a few days ago when he had approached Sam while the boy was wasted on opium. The topic of flowers did not help this feeling.    
  
“I see. A bit young, but then again Romans aren't picky from what I've heard.” Sam said simply, but there was a teasing look in his eye.    
  
“Not like that,” Lucifer coughed, his knuckles turning white in irritation.    
  
The boy laughed softly,”Well, I suppose the people like the General who helped free them.”    
  
Lucifer looked away, pondering the statement, but Sam continued. “I have you to thank, Lucifer.“   
  
“You should be thanking my father.”   
  
“Your father wasn’t the one who came to my rescue.” Sam retorted while he traced his fingers along the banister.    
  
The older man swallowed and tried to keep his thoughts from being lewd, but he knew deep down this was exactly what Sam wanted. “They were my orders, for as long as I am here, it is my job to keep you safe.”   
  
“I couldn't wish for better protection.” The boy said breathily, and lugged himself up and planted his body on the side of the rail next to Lucifer. Close to each other, but not close enough to touch. “Truly. I appreciate what you've done for me...but I'm here to ask something of you.”    
  
That wasn't what Lucifer expected.   
  
The General turned to him, confusion written all over his face,  _ what could Sam possibly want of him? _ He had half the mind to just get up and leave, forget Sam's games with his words and touches, and resume what life had been. With Sam he was distracted, always trying to decrypt what the boy was hiding under his words, and with his motives unclear and his actions unpredictable, he believed he would never understand Sam.    
  
Sam took Lucifer's silence as a means to continue.”I...I offer you friendship, an alliance between us.”    
  
And Lucifer laughed. A deep rumbling in his chest which made his whole body shake. He couldn't control it, it was unbelievably funny to him. Sam was staring at him, almost disappointedly, the expression in his face could only be described as crestfallen, and it halted Lucifer’s heaving long enough to let a few words out.    
  
“You’re serious.”   
  
“Deathly.” He responded, and Lucifer didn’t think Sam looking angry would be so satisfying to him. He supposed the used-to-be prince wasn’t accustomed to being denied.    
  
“No offense your majesty, but you haven’t been very friendly - have you forgotten?”   
  
The general knew that Sam was aware of what he was referring to. Lucifer could still remember his spread legs and hooded eyes, a room hazy with smoke, Sam’s wicked smile and the prince pulling and pushing him away - it left a bitter taste in Lucifer’s mouth.    
  
The boy sighed,”I apologize if I went too far, but I needed to...make sure of something.”   
  
“ _ And that being _ ?”   
  
“I can’t say now..,” He looked away,”but - my offer, if you’re still interested.”    
  
Sam was about to get up and leave, but Lucifer reached out to grab his wrist. The boy stiffened in his grasp, and Lucifer thought he had made a horrible mistake. He released Sam as if it burned him, but the youth did not look appalled or disgruntled, merely surprised at the sudden contact of skin. He sunk back down onto the balcony rail next to Lucifer and awaited what the general had to say.    
  
“What does this ‘friendship’ entitle?”    
  
“..I know you Lucifer, I have for awhile, and I know what you’re capable of.” Sam said,”I believe we can help each other.”   
  
“This sounds like something you should be speaking to my brother about,” Lucifer huffed,”I’m a general, not a politician.”    
  
“I’m not looking for an ally in your senate. I think if we worked together, we could accomplish much.”    
  
“The people won't like it.”   
  
“The people don't need to know,” Sam answered simply,” but I can supply your legions and I can help Rome maintain its grasps on eastern territory, and in return, I want your protection outside of Egypt.”    
  
“ _ Protection _ ?” Lucifer asked incredulously.   
  
“You're powerful. You have influence- _ the legendary General of Gaul _ , we can be of benefit to each other. Consider it.”    
  
Lucifer turned away from Sam's piercing eyes to look at the city. The youth’s words echoed in his head. The king could help him, that he knew that.    
  
_ He's already controlling you.  _   
  
The General looked down to the flowers in his hand once again, and with one quick move, he chucked them off the balcony. They fluttered slowly to the courtyard below. He watched with a deep frown on his face and Sam was silent. Only the softness of his breaths reminding Lucifer he was still there. It was sometime before either of them spoke.    
  
“I will do anything and everything to protect my country,” Sam said, now standing and moving away from the balcony, but within reach of Lucifer,”You can think about my offer.”    
  
Sam looked at Lucifer once more, and it seemed that the teasing and the satisfactory smile that Sam had been sporting when they met had returned. His head tilted in a way that exposed the supple sun-kissed skin of his neck. Just there to taunt him. Sam knew how he looked, and he knew how greatly Lucifer was keeping himself back from attacking his neck with his lips. The boy sighed hotly and moved closer to Lucifer, enough that they shared the same air.   
  
“Do not mistake me, Lucifer,” Sam breathed,”I would do my damnedest to kill you and everything you held dear if it was for the good of Egypt, but….”    
  
Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips to Lucifer’s cheek. The General froze under the soft touch, and Lucifer could feel Sam smiling against his skin. Almost as soon as Sam was there, he was gone and pulling away.    
  
The boy looked at him with soft eyes and sighed, ”You're different, aren't you, Lucian?”    
  
And with that, the youth walked away and left Lucifer on the balcony. Alone.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I hope ya'll enjoyed, I'm sorry that these chapters take me so long to write but hopefully I'll be able to get them up faster in the future. I'm glad to see some of you are still liking this story, it means a lot to me and your comments always make me smile. Have a wonderful day <3


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